Page 29 of Lethal Vengeance

“I’m guessing you’re not close?”

He looks back at me with a wry smile. “We were never close. I spent years trying to figure him out. He was the best ghost in the business, but the only thing he cared about more than his country was leaving a legacy.”

Legacy. Growing up, all I wanted was to follow in my dad’s footsteps. All his dad wanted was his son to follow his. And yet, the two are vastly different in nature.

“I’m sorry,” I reply softly.

He looks startled. “Why are you sorry?”

“As someone lucky enough to have two fathers growing up, I can’t imagine what it was like to know he would never be the person you wanted him to be,” I explain.

He’s silent for a second. “Two fathers?”

“My father died when I was eight. Line of duty. My mother married a wonderful man when I was ten. He cared for me like I was his own child. Both men taught me a lot. Practical things, like how to shoot a gun and change a tire, how to defend myself, and how to get back up after getting knocked down.” My voice dies when I realize this is the second time I’ve thought of my family tonight.

He steps in front of me.

Even in the dark, I can feel his eyes sweeping over me.

“I was a weapon. They would point me in a direction, and I would kill, no questions asked.” His voice is neutral, but I can’t help feeling like this is a test.

“You served your country,” I say, without looking at him. “There’s the car.” I point to the left and turn toward it.

A harsh laugh escapes him. “That’s what everyone says. What would they say if they knew the government wasn’t so noble? What would you say if I told you how much I enjoyed planning and executing my duty?”

It stops me in my tracks. “Did you?” I ask, studying his face for the truth.

He jerks his chin down. “Yes. It was both challenging and a thrill. To see a target die by my hand and know they didn’t even see it coming.”

My eyes drop briefly to his right hand. “Why did you stop?”

He looks up at the stars in the sky. “One day, I woke up empty. There was nothing left inside. The thrill, the satisfaction, the ambition to be the best… it was gone. Nothing I did brought it back. I tried to explain it to them, but the CIA didn’t care. Weapons are meant to be used. They kept sending me out on missions.”

He runs a hand through his hair before tucking it behind his ears. “Until I screwed up. Accidentally killed a family. Mom, dad, and two kids.” His breath comes in short bursts, but he manages to get it out. “It almost destroyed me. The CIA classified me as a liability and recalled me. Once I was grounded, I looked for a way forward. Something that allowed me to breathe again. With help from Marcos and Zane, I extricated myself from the CIA and went to work for them—rescuing people and protecting my team.”

“When you look back, are you proud or ashamed?” I ask, desperate to know if the conflict raging inside me will ever be resolved.

“Both.” His answer is short, but the impact is like a shot to the gut.

Now I know. I’ll never be whole again.

13

QUINN

Before Zane and his team arrived in Monterrey, my thoughts were consumed with killing Armando and his men. It’s all I did. Plot, plan, and dream of it.

Now, the past is knocking on the door of my mind, teasing me with good memories and reminding me of the person I used to be. It’s bittersweet—seeing them but knowing I’ll never be that person again.

Both Zane and Cruz found a way forward, and I know they’re trying to help me, too. But I don’t give a damn about later. I can’t. Sophia deserves to rest in peace, and I’m the only one left to give it to her.

“Why did you tell me?” I ask Cruz. “Is this a conspiracy to get me to give up my plans to come rescue with you?”

“If I thought it would work, yes,” he replies, his voice low. “The real answer… honesty. I don’t want my past standing between us.” There’s a raw note in his voice that makes me believe him. “I won’t apologize for who I am. The deaths are mine to own—both the good and bad—those in the past and those yet to come. It took a long time for me to step out of the darkness, but I can’t live fully in the light either. I’m not wired that way. Does that bother you?”

Relief rushes through me, and my knees go weak. I don’t have to pretend I’m anyone but who I am with him. Flawed, broken, strong, cold. It doesn’t matter.

“I knew your past before we kissed,” I admit softly, wanting him to know it didn’t matter to me either. “I didn’t give it one ounce of thought except to wonder who I’d pissed off.”